


I'm Bigger Than These Bones

by GracefulVengeance



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood and Gore, Dean is very vulnerable, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Horror, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Obligatory sex scene, Possible Character Death, Pre-Shield Destruction, Sporadic Updates, Werewolves, haven't decided yet, sorry i'm lazy and unmotivated, the canon timeline is messy and things will be skipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefulVengeance/pseuds/GracefulVengeance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's curiosity gets the best of him when he stumbles upon an occult shop and the shop owner that makes Dean an offer he can't pass up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Explore

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the playlist I made to accompany this!
> 
> [Kick Me Like a Stray](http://8tracks.com/graceful-vengeance/kick-me-like-a-stray?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [Graceful Vengeance](http://8tracks.com/graceful-vengeance?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).

The dull roar of the crowd could just barely be heard over the jagged guitar riff blasting throughout the stadium. Dean grinned as he stumbled back, feeling Roman and Seth’s hands clap against his shoulders as they surveyed their opponents crumpled on the floor of the ring. Another notch on The Shield’s belt. Dean could feel the jerking motion of Seth’s arm as he swung it about, pointing and talking whatever nonsensical trash he could muster. Roman kept his arm steady around Dean, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before they all turned to flee the arena.

  
Dean rolled his shoulders, grunting when he felt them crack from the sudden movement. Seth gave him a playful shove, his obnoxious cackling piercing through Dean’s eardrums.

“What a kickass match! Did you see how I flew right on top of those guys? They never saw it coming!” he grinned, clearly and overly proud of himself.

As always, Seth was still buzzing with energy. You could practically see the adrenaline emanating from him. Roman’s hand reached over to ruffle Seth’s hair, briefly distracting him from pestering Dean any further. Dean could feel his lips perk up into a smile, all tension leaving his body when Roman chuckled low in his throat, clearly amused with the two of them.

“Call us a cab back to the hotel?” Dean looked to Roman, who already had his phone out.

“Already on it,” he smiled warmly, shaking his head.

All Dean wanted was a long, hot shower and his moderately comfortable hotel bed. He opted to stay in his tank top and cargo pants, unzipping and tossing the Shield vest into his dressing room while Roman and Seth changed. Dean could feel his shirt cling to his back, sticky with sweat, and as they walked out into the cool evening air he felt a pleasant chill run up his spine. They all piled into the cab, Seth shuffling in after Roman and Dean sliding in next to him. Seth squirmed in between the two of them, letting out a whiny grunt as he tried to adjust himself comfortably.

Seth scrunched up his nose and turned to Dean. “Dude, you smell like hell.”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he pressed into Seth, wiping his sweat on Seth’s arm with a satisfied smirk.

“C’mon! Why didn’t you shower back at the locker room?”

Dean shrugged, pursing his lips. “Don’t care.”

“You’re nasty,” Seth grumbled.

The cab arrived shortly after and they all went their separate ways and into their rooms. Dean went straight for the shower, peeling off his clothes and tossing them on the floor along the way. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and hopped in. After soaping up and lazily scrubbing shampoo through his hair, he rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. He shook his head, spraying water over the bathroom sink and mirror as he grabbed a towel and tied it around his waist.  


Dean was about to grab some clothes from his suitcase when he heard a rapid series of knocks on his door. The tenacity of the knocking led him to believe it was Seth, and upon squinting into the peephole he saw he was right. He opened the door, leaning casually against the frame and looking at Seth expectantly.

“Wuddya want?” he drawled.

“You all clean now?” Seth asked.

Dean looked down at the towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes widening in mock realization as he looked back at Seth. “Well shit, looks like I am.”

“Shut up,” Seth snickered. “Let’s go out!”

“Where to?”

“There was this dive bar a few blocks from here that looked pretty cool,” Seth shrugged.

“Fine. Gimme a few to get dressed and we can-“

Before Dean was finished with his sentence Seth was bounding back towards his room to grab his things. “Meet you there!” he heard him say from the distance.

“Dick,” Dean muttered.

He shut the door and grabbed some clean clothes from his overflowing suitcase. He hadn’t bothered to unpack, preferring to live out of the overstuffed bag. He grabbed his leather jacket from the foot of the bed, checking to make sure his wallet still sat in his pocket. He stepped outside, seeing a strip of stores off to his right that looked promising. He decided almost immediately that he would take his time finding the bar, strolling down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

In the distance he could hear the faint sound of live music, assumedly coming from the bar that Seth was waiting for him at. A flash of something caught his eye before he could walk much further. A storefront, filled with all assortments of oddities. A taxidermy tiger stood looming in the windowsill, its glistening eyes almost watching him. He glanced up, the worn wooden sign reading: The Final Form. He snorted and shook his head. The name was cheesy as hell, but there was something about the array of occult-like items they offered that piqued his interest. He had time to spare. Plus, that tiger was really fucking cool.

He pushed open the door, a little worn bell jingling and signaling his entrance. The floorboards creaked and Dean was assaulted with the faint scent of dust and some herb or spice that he couldn’t quite recognize. To his right, Dean observed a small wall of drawers, each with labels of different stones and what purposes they could serve. A small bookshelf sat next to it, displaying various books of spells, bound in worn leather that made them look handmade. Dean turned to his left, finding a wall-to-wall shelf full of seemingly hundreds of glass jars, all filled with various herbs and spices. He was drawn to it, not only by the lingering scents, but by the sheer massiveness of it.

All the jars had names he could barely pronounce. Small pictures were also placed above each label, though they weren’t any better at indicating the effects or uses. Dean narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips in confusion when he saw some showed pictures of animals. A lion, a fox, a bear, and most importantly, the one that caught Dean’s eye the most, a wolf. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing against the glass jar.

“Welcome,” a raspy voice said from behind.

Dean jumped, turning around to find an older man standing behind the front desk. He must’ve come from the back of the store, since Dean hadn’t seen anybody when he walked in.  


Dean shifted uncomfortably, a little unsettled by the man. “Thanks.”

“So tell me, what brings you to my store so late at night?” he asked.

“Just takin’ a look around, had some time to kill,” Dean replied with a shrug of his shoulder.

“Ah,” the shopkeeper nodded, stepping from behind the counter.

His hand brushed the shelves as he approached him. He smiled, his clouded eyes aimless, his fingers drumming lightly against the wooden shelf.

“I see you’ve discovered my collection of herbal enhancements.”

“Herbal enhancements, huh?” Dean picked up the jar he had his eye on previously.

He popped it open, and before he could bring it up to begin to smell it, the scent wafted into the air. Dean wrinkled his nose, it was unlike anything he’d ever smelled before. Wet fur, soil, a hefty musk, and the sharp scent of iron.

The shopkeeper’s head tilted and he hummed, a wide, toothy smile curling on his lips.

“Wölfe erfreuen,” he said in an almost melodic tone. “A good choice.”

“Wolf a what?” Dean closed the jar, but still kept it in his hand. “What do these… herbal enhancements do anyway?”

“That depends on what you’re looking for. My herbs can do all sorts of things,” he paused, and though his eyes stayed fixed looking off into the distance, his overall focus remained on Dean.

“What you’ve picked up there happens to enhance…the strength of the user.”

“What like steroids or somethin’? Look man I can’t be getting involved with no drugs. I’d get canned for that kind of crap.”

The older man shook his head with a knowing smile. “But of course. I can assure you, the effects subside very quickly and are all natural. 8 hours and it’s gone without a trace.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” Dean replied. “How about a free sample and I’ll leave you a positive Yelp review.”

“On one condition. You must buy a method of use,” the shopkeeper gestured to a small section of the shelving, which held a variety of items.

“Take your pick and I will give you half an ounce to try.”

Dean raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

He eyed the shelves curiously, scanning his choices. He picked up the small cauldron, the sturdy cast iron weighing heavily in his hand. He put it back down in favor of a small wooden pipe, hand carved with ornate designs. Finally, he picked up a syringe and turned it over in his hand. It was far nicer than any he’d seen before. The base was made out of hand-blown glass, while the plunger had a copper handle. He held onto the syringe far longer than the other items, running his thumb over it pensively.

“Each method has its benefits,” the shopkeep chimed in. “the cauldron is the most traditional method, allowing the blend to brew beautifully over a low flame. Though time consuming and slow-acting, it’s worth the effort.”

He paused, a slow smile curving on his lips. “The pipe and syringe are definitely more… modern. The use of the pipe is simple, grind down the herb and light it aflame in the pipe. As for the syringe, the preparation is similar to brewing it as a tea of sorts. With the injection, a more concentrated brew is needed. A teaspoon and a half of water to a teaspoon of the herb at high heat will do the trick. It’s the fastest of the three options and subsides quickly. Whereas the pipe and drink take longer to take effect. The choice is up to you, my friend.”

Dean glanced down at the syringe and nodded, pulling his wallet from his jacket pocket. “I’ll take it.”

The older man nodded, shuffling back behind the counter. He pulled out a small cloth pouch, already prepared with the herb and set it on the counter with a cheery grin. Dean carefully placed the syringe into the man’s open and waiting palm, his fingers curled around it and he placed it into a small paper bag along with the pouch.

“Twenty dollars should do it for the-“ Dean slapped a fifty into the man’s hand and snatched the bag from the counter.

“Keep the change,” he muttered.

He rolled up the paper bag and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket as he made his way down the street. He saw Seth through the grimy window of the dive bar, a live band played on a nearby stage as he entered.

“Where’ve yuh been?” he babbled as Dean sat next to him at the bar. “Had to start without you.”

“Shouldn’t have ran off without me, asshat,” he leaned against the bar, the syringe and herb pouch weighing heavily in his pocket. “I’m assuming Roman opted out of drinking tonight.”

“Mhm, big dog was tired,” Seth mumbled. “A round of beers over here!”

“How many have you had already?” Dean wrinkled his nose as the scent of cheap alcohol lingered on Seth’s breath.

“Haven’t had a beer yet. It’s time to switch it up!” he howled.

Seth had insisted that he was fine as he stumbled alongside Dean, knocking into his shoulders every few minutes as they walked back to the hotel. After a couple close calls with Seth’s face almost eating sidewalk, Dean begrudgingly grabbed Seth’s arm and draped it over his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around the other man’s waist. Dean had drunk just enough to be pleasantly buzzed, so taking care of a wasted Seth wasn’t impossible.

“If Roman were here he’d be carrying your drunk ass,” he sighed.

“Shuddup,” Seth mumbled, his free hand pawing at Dean’s stomach as he slumped against him.

“Almost there, pup,” Dean kept Seth steady as they walked into the lobby.

He walked Seth to his room, which luckily, was on the same floor and only 5 doors down from his. He jostled Seth, seeing that his eyes were growing heavy and more of his weight was pressed against him.

“Time to wake up, princess!” he shook Seth a little harder this time. “You got your room key?”

Seth nodded slowly, swaying as he stood upright and reached into his back pocket. He took the key out, fumbling with the sensor lock for a few seconds before hearing a mechanical click! He leaned against the door to push it open.

“See ya in the mornin’,” Dean mumbled as he made his way back to his room. If Seth didn’t make it to his bed that wasn’t his problem. Roman would’ve had his head if Dean hadn’t made sure he’d gotten back to his room “safely”.

He tossed his jacket onto the bed as he shuffled into his room, undressing down to his undershirt and boxers. Immediately he pulled out the paper bag, dumping out the herb and syringe. He walked over to the desk and grabbed a complimentary coffee cup, and went over to the sink, filling up the cup with what he guessed was about a teaspoon and a half of water. He grabbed the cloth bag, opening it up and dumping again, what he guessed was a teaspoon of the herb, and threw it into the microwave. He set the timer for a minute and a half, figuring that was plenty of time for it to heat up enough, and waited. He pulled the cup out of the microwave just as the timer went off and instantly was met with an almost nauseating smell. He was suddenly very grateful that he wasn’t drinking this stuff.

He swirled the mixture around in the cup, watching as the steam curled and wafted out of the top. Once the liquid had cooled he grabbed the syringe, sticking the needle in and pulling the plunger back. He watched intently as the almost opalescent liquid filled up the base and pressed the plunger down in quick bursts to remove any potential air bubbles. He held his arm out, bracing himself as he sunk the needle into the flesh between his forearm and bicep. The liquid felt ice cold as it coursed through him. His fingers tingled, that feeling quickly moved up to the palm of his hand, and eventually led up to his his arm.

Dean started to wonder if maybe he’d been swindled, that maybe this was a bad idea. Too late now. Suddenly, like a knee to the gut, he doubled over and fell to the floor with a gasp. His entire arm was burning, every nerve ending screaming in pain. He let out a strangled yell and with a sickly crack his jaw reformed, extending into a long maw. His tongue flattened and elongated, his canines extended and sharpened. Dean scrambled forward in a panic, his vision blurred, threatened to go out on him completely. He felt like his body was falling apart piece by piece, the incredible pain ripping him apart. He felt his spine snap, his shoulders broadened, his torso extending into a hunched form.

He felt itchy. Why was he itchy? He scratched at his skin with his newly formed fingers and sharp nails, but it felt… different. He looked down to find that he had small patches of red fur on his arms. That same fur soon sprouted all over his body, he could feel every inch, every follicle as it grew. He had a sudden, horrific realization, and he crawled to the bathroom. His aching bones still snapping and cracking as he struggled to stand, to see what nightmare awaited him in the mirror.

What he saw, he couldn’t believe. _This isn’t me. No fucking way. I’m just having a bad trip is all. That sleazy shopkeeper laced those herbs with something._ He put a hand to his face, running it up and down his newly formed muzzle. Long, pointed ears stuck out from the top his head, and he realized as he patted the sides where his ears used to be, that his… human ears were gone. He curled his lips over his newly sharpened teeth, sporting an unintentionally sinister grin. He opened his mouth, revealing his long, flattened tongue, and clicked his teeth together.

It wasn’t long before the pain subsided and was replaced with the most intoxicating sensation Dean had ever felt in his life. Raw power coursed through him, his body thrummed with it. Adrenaline made his muscles twitch and ache, akin to the feeling he got when he worked out, but amplified so much more than he ever thought he could feel. He stumbled out of the bathroom, his legs shaking as they buckled beneath him. He knelt at the edge of the bed, gasping as the feeling climbed. He felt dizzy, his ears were ringing, and as he buried his face into the covers he felt his consciousness slipping. He tried to fight it, tried to stand up, but quickly crumbled and his vision went black.


	2. Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles with a devastating loss in the ring and decides to take comfort in his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is a little slow-going. Trying to establish a solidified timeline has proven to be slightly difficult.

“Dean. Dean?”

There was something cold being pressed against his head, something cold and wet.

“Time to wake up, _princess_!”

Dean’s eyes fluttered open to find Roman and Seth standing over him, a wet rag being pressed against his forehead. There was a sudden spark of panic and Dean lurched forward on the floor in search of the needle and the pouch. He checked his arm for marks, but found nothing, not even a scab. He breathed a sigh of relief, but found Roman and Seth still there, shock and concern on their faces.

Roman knelt down and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“‘M fine,” Dean shrugged, standing up to stretch out his arms. His whole body felt sore, and each movement made his bones creak.

“You don’t look fine,” Seth remarked.

“Had a little too much to drink last night?” Roman watched Dean with a furrowed brow.

Dean didn’t respond, instead he walked over to the bathroom, tousling his hair and pulling his lips back to check his teeth. Was last night really all a dream? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be, not until he tried it again. He splashed some cold water on his face and patted it dry with a towel. When he walked back out, Roman and Seth were still there. It seemed like they had been talking, Roman had pulled away from leaning into Seth’s ear when Dean walked out. Dean knew when his brothers were worried about him, it was written all over their faces. He sighed in exasperation and waved a dismissive hand at them.

“Can’t a guy get a little privacy around here?” he grumbled. “What time is it anyway?”

“10 AM. Seth and I spent a good 15 minutes trying to wake your ass up. We were going to go get some training in before the show tonight,” Roman paused, stealing one more glance at Dean. “You sure you’re okay?”

Dean nodded, giving his brothers a half smile. “C’mon. When am I ever not okay?”

“All the time actually,” Seth replied with a snicker.

Roman chuckled and nodded, patting Dean’s shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll be at the gym if you want to join us.”

“I’m gonna go for a run, I’ll catch you guys later,” was Dean’s reply.

Roman and Seth walked out and as the door shut Dean dropped to the floor, scrambling and desperately looking for the syringe and herbs. As he had assumed, they had rolled underneath the bed. He grabbed them both and went to the sink to wash the syringe out, taking one more glance in the mirror. He quietly observed his very normal jaw, ears, and nose. All human, just like they should be. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he had seen last night, what had happened to him. Was it all just a fever dream? A drug-induced hallucination? He would find out tonight, he had to. He opened up the drawer on his night table and threw the syringe and herb pouch inside.

He grabbed a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts and sneakers, keeping on the tank top he had slept in last night. He walked out of the hotel and started at a brisk jog down the sidewalk. It was warmer out than he expected. Normally he was out on runs way earlier in the morning, when it was still cool outside. He wondered if it had really only been 15 minutes that Roman and Seth had spent trying to wake him up. He had been out cold for the entire night.

He tried to push that all out of his mind and focus on running. Dean never liked being in the city, he preferred training out in the open. He felt closed off as he ran past all these buildings, he was never free to run like this. He tried to make the best of it, jumping off the occasional porch or lamppost and running along walls briefly, but he felt his mind start to wander again. He ran another ten blocks or so before turning the corner to wrap back around to the hotel.

After getting back to his hotel room and taking a much needed shower, Dean was left with the dilemma of what to do next. By the time he had gotten back from his run and cleaned up, it was close to 1pm. He still had a few hours to kill before he had to head to the arena. He debated going to meet Roman and Seth at the hotel’s gym, but the thought of the worried looks he might get from the both of them in addition to the sub-par equipment they probably had down there was enough to put Dean off. He hadn’t eaten breakfast, so room service and some TV were looking really good.

He grabbed the menu, kicked back in his bed, and ordered something light. He couldn’t go into a match with a full stomach. He turned on the TV, aimlessly flipping through channels while he waited for his food. His eyes drifted to the half open drawer on his night table, his hand reaching out to pull it open all the way. He stared at the syringe and herb pouch sitting in there and felt his arm muscles twitch and ache. He shook his head and slammed the drawer shut. He’d have time for that later, he couldn’t afford distractions.

Tonight was a big night, and as his brothers firmly gripped his shoulders he felt like he could actually do this. It was the night of the Battle Royale, the night he would be defending his United States Championship against 19 other guys. As he walked down those stairs and stepped into that ring, belt snug around his waist and his brothers standing ringside, he felt invincible. He watched as they all flooded into the arena, all the guys who wanted to take away his belt. Like hell they would. He barely paid attention while the announcer explained the conditions of the match, instead he looked around, his eyes darting back and forth at all his opponents.

Just like that the bell rung and they were on each other like a pack of wild animals. Dean felt his senses sharpen, the group becoming just a mass of bodies, bodies that he had to get over those ropes. One punch, one swing, one kick after another, that’s all it was to him. It wasn’t long before eliminations were called, one after the other it seemed. Dean found himself in the middle of the ring, groups of people fighting in each corner, doing more of the work for him than he expected. He had to survive, he had to conquer. _Survive, conquer, eliminate_.

It was all a blur until Dean found himself almost over the top rope. He clenched his teeth as he hung on, and with one clever move after another, he eliminated one, two, three. Finally, after what seemed like a millennia, it was down to him and Sheamus. Dean was reaching his limit, his chest heaving, his face and chest dripping with sweat. The last reserves of his strength were leaving him, and as sudden as it had started, he was flipped over the top rope and slammed to the floor. His ears were ringing, his eyes heavy lidded and his muscles screaming. He barely caught a glimpse of Roman kneeling down next to him, a strong hand placed on his chest.

Dean’s mind was still in a frustrated haze as he was rolled back into the ring, accompanied by Roman and Seth. He heard Seth trying to comfort him over the roar of the crowd, but still the anger and the shame bubbled up as he stood to his feet, his face twisted in rage. The anger reached a fever pitch when Triple H entered, a disgustingly smug look on his face. Dean’s muscles tensed as he paced aimlessly while Triple H droned on about the match to come, a six-man tag team match against The Wyatts.

It was hours later and they were reeling from their loss. Dean felt his anger magnify. His brothers could tell, sitting in silence as Dean sucked in short breaths through his clenched teeth. Roman and Seth were tense too, though they did their best to keep their composure for Dean’s sake. He lost more tonight than either of them did and that was enough to drive them crazy.

“We’ll get em next time,” was all Roman said before they hopped into the cab back to the hotel.

Dean stomped back into his room, trying to keep his breathing steady as he stripped down to his tank top and boxers. He paced around the room, his eyes catching the drawer on his bedside table. He put a clenched fist to his temple, his teeth bared in a grimace as he tapped his fist against his head. He opened up the drawer, grabbing all of its contents and preparing the liquid as he had done the night prior. As the stuff cooked in the microwave he grabbed the bag he had thrown onto his bed earlier that day. Before the show Dean went out to a convenience store to grab a proper tourniquet.

The microwave beeped and he pulled the cup out, blowing on it briefly before pulling it into the syringe. He wrapped the tourniquet around his arm, pulling it taut with his teeth as he flexed and tapped to find a vein. He tugged the tourniquet loose after sinking the needle into his flesh, pushing the plunger down and clenching his teeth as the still hot liquid coursed through his veins. He calmly put the needle down and stared down at his arm, flexing his hand and awaiting the change he wasn’t sure would happen.

His heart started racing and his once calm breaths turned into short pants. His arm started burning once again, but instead of the unbearable pain he had felt the night before, it was more… pleasant. It just felt warm, and the feeling spread deliciously throughout his body. His bones reforming still came as a shock to him, the force knocking him to his knees again. Dean groaned deep and low in his throat as his body contorted and took on the transformation. It was so different this time, he almost welcomed the changes, his whole body burning in the most savory way. The throbbing pain made him quiver, constant shivers running down his spine.

He felt more in control than he did the previous night, rising up on his now clawed feet and fur covered legs. He held his arms out, clicking the sharp nails on his hands together curiously. He stumbled forward with cautious steps, still getting used to his malformed legs. He felt clumsy and unruly in his new body, but the power surging through him was incredible. He felt his tolerance for the pain build with each passing moment and he felt confident that he could stay conscious this time around. He shuffled into the bathroom and checked his appearance in the mirror again. He opened his elongated maw and saw those sharp teeth once again. _Just imagine sinking those teeth into whatever got in your way._ He snapped his mouth shut, shaking the intrusive thought out of his head and wobbling back into the bedroom.

He felt restless, all his senses were heightened, and his sharpened vision caught sight of the window to the outside. His pointed ears perked up and he ran towards the window and threw it open. His eyes scanned the street below him, four stories above the ground. It was dark and there weren’t any people around. He could go outside right now. Nobody would see, he would stay hidden. He wanted to enjoy the freedom of the outside world. He just felt trapped in this room. His long tongue flopped out as he panted, feeling the cool night air against his face. _Let’s go outside. It’ll be okay. Just for a little while._


	3. Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a stunt that could've raised more questions were it not for his brothers being more accepting of Dean's eccentricity, the boys hit the road to their next destination. But how long can Dean hide his new-found "hobby" from his brothers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relaxing, sorta fluffy chapter. Taking a short break from the tension. Just a short one. ;p

All of his senses were buzzing, everything felt heightened, stronger, more intense. He could hear the slightest of sounds, new scents at every corner, his vision was clear amidst the darkness. He could feel when someone was near, knew when to turn a corner to avoid being seen. He felt like he could run for hours, just bounding and leaping in the alleyways between the city streets. This was energy like he’d never felt before, energy that he wanted to harness. Hunger overcame him in an instant, and suddenly he could smell every appealing scent in the area. His nose twitched as he sniffed and felt his stomach growl a complaint.

He heard the screech of a dumpster being closed down the next alleyway and turned a corner to find a man walking away from the pile of trash. He wore an apron and was covered in what Dean assumed to be food stains. He felt his mouth water and his stomach rumbled again. _Go on. No one will see you. You’re alone and the night is yours. Take what you want. Take it!_

Dean found himself face first in the carpet of the hotel hallway, his chest heaving at being jolted awake so suddenly. The inside of his mouth tasted acrid and sour. He could feel a cold draft and realized that he was stark naked in the middle of the damned hallway. He hissed a curse through his teeth and stood up, his muscles aching in protest. How he made it up here without being seen was beyond him, and at this point not worth thinking about. He looked around, making sure no one was there, and ran to his room. He soon realized in the now heated pit of his stomach, that his wallet was in his room and with it the room key. He made a despaired noise, knocking his head against the door frame. He knew there was only one logical course of action, and just hoped he wasn’t met with a million questions.

He tip toed over to Roman’s room, clenching his teeth while he knocked on the door. He pressed his ear against it, hoping he could hear Roman getting up. He was met with silence, and tried knocking again, louder this time.

“I’m in a bit of a situation here, Ro’. Open up,” he called out.

Finally he heard sluggish footsteps from inside and the door clicked and was pulled open. He was met with Roman’s heavy lidded eyes and furrowed brow. “Dean what’s going on? It’s four in the morn-” his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to seduce me,” Roman cooed, planting a kiss on Dean’s shoulder as he entered.

He snorted and leaned against the wall with his arms folded. “I’d save this kind of stunt for a day when we had a lot more time.”

Roman chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a pair of basketball shorts and tossing them to him. “Should I even bother asking?”

“Thanks,” Dean muttered, slipping the shorts snuggly around his waist. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“What? No crazy bar story? Got into a naked fight with a homeless guy? Lost all your clothes in a bet? Nothing?”

Dean simply shrugged. “I gotta go bother the front desk for another room key.”

“Alright… Make sure you’re ready and packed up. We’re hitting the road in 2 hours,” Roman called out. Dean nodded before letting the door shut behind him.

After subjecting himself to a few weird looks from the people at the front desk, Dean sauntered back to his room, falling face-first onto his bed. With all the distractions, he didn’t realize just how exhausted he was. After a night out on the town like that and no sleep, he was hoping Roman would take the first driving shift so he could sleep in the car. He turned over and got off the bed, grabbing the syringe and pouch and tucking it in the bottom of his suitcase. He packed up the clothes he had tossed on the floor and zipped up the bag. Since Dean never bothered to unpack, he never had issues with being ready to go. He put on some jeans and a t-shirt, left his jacket lying on the bed and laid down, wondering if he would be able to get any sleep before his alarm went off.

5:30AM and Dean hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He forced himself out of bed, figuring he could get a quick shower in before meeting Roman and Seth in the lobby. Not to mention he probably smelled awful after the match and running around nearly all night. He hopped into the shower to wash himself down and come out look semi-presentable. It was 5:55 when he grabbed his bags and met with his brothers in the lobby. After checking out, they jumped into the car, and much to Dean’s relief, Roman took the wheel first.

“I call backseat,” Dean grumbled, stretching out his long legs enough to dangle over the edge. “Wake me up when we get to a rest stop.”

“Long night, Ambrose?” Seth asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

“I woke up to a little surprise earlier today. Dean, standing in front of my door completely naked. At four o’clock in the morning. No explanation.”

Seth’s head whipped back to stare at Dean, a suggestive brow raised. “ _Really_?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let it all out.”

Seth snickered, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. “I’m just disappointed you didn’t invite me.”

“Talk about a _booty_ call, am I right?” Roman chuckled.

“Booooo!” called Dean from the back. “Now shut your mouths so I can catch some z’s.”

He closed his eyes and took deep, even breaths, praying that he would eventually drift off to sleep.

“Dean, we’re here!”

Two car doors slammed shut, another one opened.

“Seth, wake him up _gently_ , would ya?”

Dean felt a light series of taps against his bicep. His eyes felt like they were glued shut when he attempted to open them. He rose from his makeshift bed and stretched his limbs out lazily. Seth and Roman were leaning against the side of the car patiently and Dean felt something bubble up in his chest. Gratitude? Relief? He couldn’t tell. He grunted as he lifted himself off of the seat and slid his way out of the car in one fluid motion.

“G’mornin’,” he mumbled. “Man, I’m starving.”

“Grab something quick, we’re leaving in 15 minutes,” Roman replied, patting Dean’s shoulder lightly.

Dean snickered watching Seth make a beeline for the bathroom, doing the not-so-subtle “I’ve been holding my piss for hours” shuffle. He trailed behind him, figuring he would empty out what was left in his tank before they hit the road again. Dean shuffled in and stood right next to Seth, flashing him a thin-lipped, cheeky smirk.

“Doesn’t _anyone_ respect urinal etiquette anymore?” Seth rolled his eyes, jabbing at Dean with his elbow.

“Hey, watch yourself there buddy. You’re gonna make me miss and get piss all over your shoes,” Dean teased.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Seth retorted. “I’d drop kick your ass if you so much as got a single drop on them.”

“I’d like to see you try, Rollins.”

“I didn’t know there was a literal pissing contest going on here,” Roman chimed in from beside them, an amused smile on his face.

“How long did it take you to come up with that one, Reigns?” Seth teased while zipping up his fly.

“I’d like to think that was pretty damned clever, you jackass,” Roman replied, still sporting a dorky grin.

Dean snorted, clapping a hand to Roman’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you guys at the car, I need to grab some food.”

Dean settled on a couple of burgers from one of the fast food joints, demolishing them both before he made it back to the car. Roman and Seth were waiting for him outside. Seth had a large bag of cheese balls he was popping in his mouth, his grubby fingers already coated in cheese powder. Roman held an energy drink in his hand, a bag of beef jerky clutched in the other.

“Shotgun!” Dean shouted, pulling open the door and hopping into the front seat.

“Well that answers my question,” Seth muttered.

With Roman behind the wheel, quietly humming to the music on the radio, and Seth making idle conversation from the backseat, Dean felt at ease for the first time in a quite a few days. Even though being on the road meant long hours, fighting over music, crappy food, and cramped spaces, it felt more like home to him than anywhere else. He’d travel to the ends of the earth for his brothers, and he planned to.


	4. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds it harder and harder to maintain control and now he has to face the consequences.

A few more hours into their drive and Dean was getting  _ antsy _ . It was always like this during the home stretch, he wanted to move, had to, whether it was drumming his fingers on something or propping his feet onto the dashboard just to plant them on the floor a few minutes later. Roman had insisted on driving the whole way despite Seth’s offers to take the wheel, so when he turned to Dean and a flashed him a “really?” look, Dean just huffed and continued his fidgeting indignantly. 

 

“I forgot to mention,” Roman started. “I don’t know if you guys remembered, we’re sharing a room this time around.”

 

Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach. Shit, he  _ had  _  forgotten about that. Normally, sharing a room with his brothers wouldn’t be a problem at all, but with his new… recreational hobby it was. He could already start to feel that telltale itch in his right arm. He cracked his knuckles and rotated his wrist in an attempt to alleviate it. He felt the ache down to his bones and sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on anything else. He reached for the radio, hoping to find a station playing actual music instead of a commercial or morning show. He found a station in the middle of a Metallica song and sighed with relief, reclining his seat and letting the music distract him.

 

_ Crushing metal, ripping skin _

_ Tossing body mannequin _

_ Spilling blood, bleeding gas _

 

_ Mangle flesh, snapping spine _

_ Dripping bloody valentine _

_ Shattered face, spitting glass _

_ Split apart _

_ Split apart _

_ Split apart _

_ Split _

_ Spit it out! _

 

 

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally made it to the hotel. Despite Dean being incredibly antsy, he waited while his brothers got their bags and walked into the lobby to check in. Roman and Seth shuffled in and Dean held up the keys between his fingers, motioning to the elevator. They got into their room and tossed their bags on the floor. The room had two king beds and a pull-out couch, not that they needed it. Seth always got really needy at night, so cuddling was mandatory.

 

“Anyone up to go out for drinks and dinner?” Seth suggested. “Those cheese puffs didn’t do shit for my appetite.”

 

“Why am I not surprised,” Roman replied, amusement in his voice. “I’m gonna take a shower first. I feel all grimy after that long car ride.”

 

Dean grunted, falling backwards on the bed, legs and arms splayed out. Seth laid down next to him, his head nestled in the crook of Dean’s neck. When he didn’t protest, Seth scooted closer, draping his arm over his stomach and hooking his leg around Dean’s. Dean felt Seth’s grip tighten and he pulled even closer. He could feel Seth’s heart beat quicken against his side and he was acting kind of weird. Dean didn’t want to ask, so he reached over to pet Seth’s head instead. He could’ve sworn he felt Seth flinch for a second, and he could still feel dread prickle in his chest, but chose to ignore it. His eyes fluttered closed and he felt himself start to relax with the weight of Seth against him.

 

_Guilt. Guilt. Guilt._ Dean heard the word echo in his head over and over. _Feels guilty. Nervous. Why? Beware. Beware. Beware. Stay on guard._ ** _Don’t turn your back._** He shook his head, as if trying to physically remove the thoughts from his brain. Like the relieving warmth of the sun, Roman came out of the bathroom, distracting him from the noise.

 

“You guys ready to go or what?” Dean could hear the smile in Roman’s voice. 

 

Seth reluctantly withdrew from Dean and got up, stretching out his limbs with a drawn out groan. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

They decided on a dive bar not too far from their hotel. After some burgers, a ton of fries, and a few pints of beer, they were all joking and laughing with each other. As usual they teased Seth for the way he ate, his cheeks always stuffed to the point of bursting. Dean was no better, and when Roman laid it out on him, Seth had almost choked on a mouthful of fries and ketchup.

“You know, you two are more alike than you realize,” Roman commented, his lips tilted in a smirk.

 

Seth and Dean turned to look at each other simultaneously, Dean with a fry flopping halfway out of his mouth and Seth with bits of ketchup freckling his beard. They shook their heads in tandem, turning back to finish off their plates. 

 

“Don’t see it,” Dean replied as he wiped the last fry around his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. 

 

Dean felt warm. He always loved that full-body tingle that came with being buzzed on cheap beer. They’d made it back to their hotel, and when Roman shut the door Dean turned to Seth, his eyes half lidded and his lips formed into a lazy, lopsided smile. Seth could see the mischief painted all over Dean’s face and prepared himself for the other man’s next move. What Seth hadn’t expected was the way Dean charged at him and pulled him in for possibly the deepest, slowest kiss he’d ever received. He made a muffled noise of surprise before letting himself melt into it, giving in to the sluggish pull of Dean’s mouth.

 

Dean’s hand reached out, searching for Roman and pulling him close, pausing with Seth to give Roman some well-deserved attention. He gave Roman a kiss so soft and sensual it made Roman weak in the knees. Dean felt Seth’s hands caress his waist and undo his belt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Seth undid and pulled down Dean’s pants, kneeling down and pressing a light kiss to his half-hard cock. Seth hooked his fingers into Dean’s waistband, pulling down the boxers and letting him kick them off. Seth licked a stripe from Dean’s balls all the way to the tip of his cock, feeling him harden under his tongue.

 

Dean had already gotten Roman’s pants off by this point, palming at Roman’s already stiff cock fervently. Dean paused to take off his shirt and Roman and Seth followed suit, with Seth removing his pants and boxers as well. Dean sauntered over to the bed, practically throwing himself on it. He sat up against the headboard, legs spread and cock stiff against his stomach. He locked eyes with Seth, his gaze sending a shiver down Seth’s spine.

 

“C’mere,” Dean drawled, his voice gravelly and laden with lust.

 

Seth obeyed, crawling in between Dean’s legs and looking up at him, his eyes blown wide and pleading.

 

“I wanna watch Roman fuck you while you blow me,” Dean growled, wrapping a hand around his dick and pressing it against Seth’s lips.

 

Seth gasped, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out to gingerly lick the sensitive head. Roman felt blood roaring in his ears and knelt down to dig through his suitcase for lube. As always, Dean’s directness was jarringly sexy and always hit each of them like a goddamned semi. Roman turned around, lube in hand, to find Seth spread and waiting for him, making muffled moans as he bobbed up and down on Dean’s length. Roman put the lube down on the bed and knelt down in between Seth’s legs, planting both his hands on Seth’s ass cheeks and poking the tip of his tongue against his hole. He wiggled it around, tracing the outer rim and eliciting soft whimpers from Seth. Roman pressed his tongue in deeper, relishing in Seth’s cries and gasps around Dean’s cock. Dean had his fingers tangled in Seth’s hair, holding his head down and bucking up into his mouth. He grunted, pulling Seth’s head up and his mouth off of him for a brief moment.

 

“ _ Fuck _ , princess. Your mouth felt so good I thought I was going to come soon. Let’s slow it down a bit, huh? I wanna take my time with you,” Dean crooned, brushing a stray strand of blonde from Seth’s face. 

 

Seth nodded, his dark eyes fluttering closed as he moved back to suck on Dean slowly. Roman was already lubing up his fingers and slipping them into Seth, easily opening and stretching him out in a matter of a few minutes. Roman lubed himself up, slipping his thick cock up against Seth’s hole slowly, feeling it pucker underneath his shaft. He locked eyes with Dean, watching his mouth part as Seth reached a particularly good rhythm. He eased himself into Seth, hissing at how his tightness gripped around his cock. He heard Seth groan and felt him flex and suck his cock even deeper inside him. 

 

Roman let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes tight and reveling in the feeling of the tightness around him. After letting Seth adjust for a moment, he started to move. He slid back and forth slowly at first, watching how his cock sunk into Seth, how he got gripped around the hilt. His strong hands grabbed Seth’s hips and he started quickening his pace. He heard Seth cry out with a mouthful of Dean’s cock and went faster, snapping his hips back and forth with such ferocity that Seth almost lost his balance. He managed to steady himself by gripping Dean’s thighs, pulling a surprised groan from him. 

 

He could feel himself getting closer as he pounded into Seth, softly grunting with every thrust forward. He focused on the noises around him, Seth and Dean groaning and panting, the primal slapping of his hips back and forth on Seth’s ass, all of it pulled him so goddamned close. He could tell Dean was close too by the long string of curse words that were spilling from his lips. Seth had already moved his hand down and started stroking himself eagerly.

 

Dean was the first to finish, his fingers tangling in Seth’s hair as hot spurts shot into Seth’s mouth. Seth whimpered softly, keeping Dean’s come in his mouth as he fucked into his own hand. Dean quirked an eyebrow and grabbed Seth’s chin, tipping it up to make eye contact with him.

 

“You still have my come in your mouth, don’t you?” he saw Seth nod, his cheeks flushing red. “You’re turned on by it aren’t you? That’s so fucking hot. You’re such a dirty little slut.”

 

That was all it took to help Seth finish, his eyes squeezing shut as he came all over his hand, his throat bobbing to swallow Dean’s come. Roman was soon to follow, a few more quick thrusts and he was coming inside Seth, shuddering as his ass milked every last drop out of his cock. He saw Dean take Seth’s fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. He found himself realizing that if he hadn’t been completely drained, he would’ve gotten hard again almost instantly. He placed a kiss in between Seth’s shoulders and pulled out of him, watching while Seth collapsed onto the bed. Seth crawled up onto the pillow next to Dean, and Roman draped the blanket on top of them, slipping into bed on the other side of Dean. It wasn’t long before all of them were sound asleep.

 

Dean found himself stirring awake, groggy and slightly disoriented. Something felt wrong, and when he opened his eyes to find Seth missing from where his arm had been draped over him his first response was confusion. He sat up, his eyes scanning the room. No light or noises coming from the bathroom, his clothes, which had been previously scattered on the floor, were gone as well as his shoes. Dean felt his heart sink, his nerves latching onto him like a vice. Why was Seth gone? Dean checked his phone, it was half past midnight.  _ Guilty guilty guilty. Wasn’t acting normal. He’s gone. He left. Abandoned you, abandoned you.  _ Dean felt his heart race. Claws raked against his skin, he clicked his teeth. 

 

He got up, saw himself grab the syringe, the pouch, a cup, some water. Microwave, one minute, cup is steaming. Syringe in the liquid, burning in his arm. He dropped the needle somewhere, it didn’t matter. He was out on the porch, pointed ears ringing, fur sprouting, bones reforming. The transformation felt natural now, maybe he was just too numb. He felt vulnerable, naked, and suddenly full of energy. He left the glass door unlocked, felt the last reserves of his control leave him, and he jumped out into the night once more.

 

Dean stumbled back into the hotel room, hair slick with sweat and bones creaking. He was quietly slipping on his tank top and boxers when he noticed that both beds were empty.

 

“ _ Dean _ ,” he heard an impossibly angry, deep voice from beside him. Roman was sitting on the desk chair, syringe in hand, a spine-shivering scowl on his face. “What the  _ hell _ do you think you’re doing?”

 

Dean stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor, shame bubbling in the pit of his stomach. What could he say? How could he explain this to Roman? To anybody?

 

“Listen, Ro’, it’s not what you think, it’s not even a big d-”

 

“Not a big  _ deal _ ?” Roman finished his sentence for him, rising from the chair and grabbing Dean roughly by the collar. Dean stood still, barely even flinched. 

 

“I thought you were done with this! Weren’t you the one who said this shit was killing you? That if you hadn’t gotten your act together and gotten clean that you would be dead in an alleyway somewhere?”

 

“It’s not any hard shit okay? It’s-”

 

“It’s  _ what _ ? What is important enough for you to risk the career you worked so hard for, huh? What if someone else had caught you with this? What if Hunter had?”

 

“I can’t explain it to you. I don’t even know where to begin. I doubt you would even believe me if I did…” Dean paused, stealing a look at Roman’s expression, which had softened just slightly.

 

Roman sighed and let go of Dean, sitting down on the bed and giving him his full attention. “Try me.”

 

“It...it changes me, Ro’. It makes me feel powerful, like I can do anything. It gives me strength beyond comparison and it makes me feel alive.”

 

“Since when have you of all people felt like you needed any of that shit? Listen, Dean, if you’re having problems you know you can come to me and Seth. You’re our brother, we’re  _ here _ for you, man.”

 

In a low whisper, Dean replied. “Where’s Seth then.”

 

Roman’s eyes widened just slightly and he looked around, almost as if he had forgotten that Seth hadn’t been present for this entire conversation. 

 

“I guess he must’ve stepped out for something…”

 

“He’s been gone all night, Ro’. When I woke up and left earlier he was already gone. Haven’t you noticed he’s been acting weird lately?”

 

Roman scratched the back of his head and nodded. “Yeah, he has been acting a little odd lately.”

 

He got up and clapped a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll go find Seth and we’ll talk about this okay? We’re gonna clear everything up and make a game plan.”

 

Dean stayed silent, barely managing a nod as nausea and anxiety took over his body. He didn’t want Roman to leave, but no matter how much he wanted to stop him, he couldn’t muster up the courage to. He watched Roman walk out in slow motion, watched the door creak softly shut. His breathing quickened, he started salivating profusely, and the dread of impending vomit washed over him. He heaved once before scrambling to the bathroom, just barely making it to retch in the toilet. Something about it felt wrong, unnatural. This didn’t smell like normal vomit, and it didn’t feel like it either. His throat was stretching painfully to accommodate whatever it was that was coming out of him. 

 

Blood. There was…  _ so much _ blood, blood and chunks of…  _ god _ what  _ was _ that? Chunks of what could only be described as jagged bits of flesh decorated the toilet bowl, flecks of coagulated blood and bile dripped down the sides and the wretched smell almost made him throw up again. Dean practically threw himself away from the toilet, curling up in the corner of the bathroom as cold sweat dripped from his brow. He was shaking, his heart hammering in his chest as he shook his head in horrific realization. Bits of last night crept back into his head and a small, strangled whimper escaped his lips. He knew what it was, just the thought of it made him want to cry out.

 

_ What’s the matter? You liked the taste last night. _

 


	5. Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles with what he's done while in wolf form. Seth and Roman pledge to help with Dean's addiction.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Dean hissed through clenched teeth as he frantically looked for a plunger.

His hands trembled violently as he shoved it into the bloody muck that sat in the toilet. He didn’t have much time left before Roman would be back. He couldn’t let him see this. This was far beyond explanation. He tried to flush again and breathed a sigh of relief when it finally went down. He used the brush and a little bit of soap the scrape at the edges, ridding the bowl of most of the evidence. The wretched smell of bile and flesh still lingered in the room and between Dean’s racing heartbeat and the urge to start hyperventilating, he was starting to feel queasy again. He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to steady his still-trembling hands. 

 

He turned on the shower and shed the rest of his clothes. He winced as he stepped into the tub, the water was scalding, but still he let the water bite into his skin. He grabbed some shower gel and washed himself down, doing the same with his face and hair, leaving nothing but the scent of ginger and lemon. He tried to breathe normally, but even that was too much to ask of himself. His mind still raced, so fast that he couldn’t catch any of his thoughts. 

 

He ground his teeth together, a choked sob escaping his lips. He slammed his fist against the tile walls, trying to make sense of what he’d done. Making sense of something he barely remembered seemed impossible.  _ Fucking christ _ , what had he done? What has this addiction done to him? What else has he done that he doesn’t remember? Everything seemed to fade together. Darkness, fuzzy streetlights, a ravenous hunger, panicked screaming. His whole body trembled at the thought. He’d  _ killed _ someone, actually fucking killed another human being. Should he turn himself in?  _ God _ , it wasn’t really him though. It was… whatever that drug turned him into. It’s taken over him. 

 

_ You are just as responsible for this as I am. I am apart of you now. You’re mine, Dean. You were mine the moment you stepped foot in that shop. You have something in you that I like, a hunger. I’m just bringing it out. We have a lot in common you know... _

 

“Shut up!” Dean cried, fingers tangling in his wet hair. “We have  _ nothing _ in common. You’re wrong. You’re not even real!” 

 

 _I am very real,_ boy _. You will learn that soon enough. My spirit is bonded to you, you can’t escape me._ _Remember, you wanted this. A contract will be made when you are willing once again, and believe me, you will be._

 

Just as he was about to respond he heard noises coming from the room. Roman must’ve come back. He had to try and keep it together now, no matter what. He felt a small sense of relief at the thought of Roman in his corner. He could get through anything with that kind of loyalty behind him. He breathed in deeply, and after drying himself off and getting dressed he stepped out into the room. He found Roman, and shockingly enough, Seth standing beside him. He looked worn down, a guilty crease in his brow. Upon seeing Dean his worried expression deepened. Dean’s face was drained of color, pale with under eye bags and deep set eyes. He looked sick, Seth felt a lump form in his throat.

 

“Dean… you look awful, are you o-”

 

“Why do  _ you _ care?” Dean bit back, his gaze as sharp as knives. “You didn’t seem too concerned when you left in the middle of the night.”

 

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a walk. Is that a crime?”

 

“You were gone all night. No note, no texts. I... freaked out,” Dean replied.

 

“Well I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m my own person. I can leave if I want to,” Seth said as he wrung his hands together.

 

Dean chewed on his lip, feeling uncertain about his previous outburst. Come to think of it, this  _ thing _ that was somehow in his head hadn’t helped the situation at all. It felt like his emotions had been amplified tenfold and the realization was clear now. He cursed himself, feeling frustrated that he let things escalate so quickly. Seth noticed Dean’s internal struggle and put a hand on his arm, steadying him.

 

“Dean, what’s going on with you man? Ro’ said it was an emergency.” Seth’s eyes were pleading.

 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

  
  


Seth looked from the syringe to the herb bag and back to Dean, his mouth slightly agape. Dean had only told him what he had told Roman, with the additional details of where and when he got the supplies, and how long he’d been doing it in secret. Much to Dean’s relief, they hadn’t directly questioned any of his explanation further. Dean held onto the hope that they would never find out about the horrific things he had done under the influence of that wretched drug, or what the drug  _ actually _ did to him. An explanation like that was far beyond any normal amount of comprehension. 

 

“So, we need to make a game plan,” Seth replied.

Seth grabbed the syringe and small pouch when he felt Dean’s hand grab his arm. Dean growled low in his throat, his eyes glued to the items in Seth’s hand. Roman put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, very slowly moving to his arm to pull it away. Seth stood his ground, taking a discarded plastic bag and throwing everything into it.

 

“We need to get rid of the temptation at all costs, Dean,” Seth said sternly.

 

When Dean felt Roman’s hand on his it was like his vision had cleared, the dark cloud dissipating. He shook his head and took a deep breath. He knew what would come next, withdrawals. He’d dealt with this before, when he’d first gotten clean. It took more willpower than he ever knew he had, but he did it then, and with the help of his brothers, he sure as hell could do it now. It felt like something had shifted, like the scales were finally being tipped in his favor. When Seth had come back from getting rid of everything Dean felt relieved.

 

“Hey uh, sorry for earlier. I’ve done this before, but that just means I know exactly how grueling it’s going to be,” Dean sighed.

 

“That’s why we’re here, Deano,” Roman replied with a small smile.

 

“Yeah man, we’ve got your back,” Seth said as he went to turn on the TV. They all needed a distraction.

 

The local news was the first channel to show up, the story currently being reported made Dean freeze, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. 

 

“An awful tragedy has set itself in the city of Rosemont, Illinois last night when the results of what seemed to be a wild animal attack were found a few miles away from our own Allstate Arena. The identity of the victim has not yet been confirmed. More information to come later today.”

 

“Jesus christ,” Roman breathed. “That’s the stadium we’re hosting Payback at in a few days, isn’t it?”

 

Dean could feel his breath quickening. His vision started to blur, his hands began shaking, and he could hear at a distance, the worried voices of his brothers fade out as he fainted. 

**Author's Note:**

> My first work that I'm semi-confident enough to post on here. Would love some feedback. Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
